Written and Directed by: Nacho Vigalondo
I don’t believe in spoiling films in my reviews, but that’s a challenge with Colossal. Much like Wes Anderson films (which Colossal briefly references), Colossal’s trailer gives viewers the impression they are to see a quirky comedy. Unlike Anderson’s works however, which only diverge slightly from the comedy genre, Colossal truly goes in an unpredictable direction. If you are willing to have that element of surprise taken away from you, read on.
Along with Jordan Peele’s Get Out, Colossal could help make 2017 the year of the “woke” horror movie. The former deals with race, the latter with gender. The difference between the two is that Get Out makes no effort to hide its theme, while Colossal’s effectiveness comes from its message’s discrete build up. But while plot twists are of course an important part of the horror genre (Get Out has a somewhat political twist of its own), Colossal’s plot-twist stands out because it is accompanied by a genre twist. While Colossal arguably opens as a horror film, its invocation of the Godzilla-trope sets up viewers for pastiche and comic parody, not actual terror.
Colossal then goes on to tell a story of gendered violence. Because viewers do not see this kind of horror coming, and because the perpetrator is not (in more ways then one) a “traditional” domestic abuser, it’s all the more effective. As in many actually cases of abuse, the protagonist, Gloria (Anne Hatheway) is not explicitly told what she is going through, but rather, along with the audience, has to figure it out herself.
Colossal’s approach to topical filmmaking allows it to have a powerful conclusion, but this comes at a cost. The middle portion of the film is a genre-less wasteland in which Gloria hangs out with a comedic-ish-friend-group whose interactions never get that funny. Meanwhile, the film also drifts away from a key part of its premise, scenes of a monster reeking havoc on Korea. As audiences are left underwhelmed by Gloria’s daily happenings, and disappointed by the dreary small-town scenes shown in place of glimmering downtown Seoul, they are secretly being integrated into the dreary world in which Gloria is being held prisoner.
However, once the nature of Gloria’s existence becomes apparent, the film is able to explore its gendered theme in a much more animated fashion. Colossal ends with a sad-faced, black-eyed Gloria forcefully pushing for her freedom. This too is one of the film’s strong points, as it is the writer-director Nacho Vigalondo’s way of responding to the age-old question of whether the oppressed should resist with force or by turning the other cheek. Colossal ultimately choses force, but by showing Gloria’s face to be confused and broken, not bloodshot, it does not do so unambiguously.
Colossal in short, is not always the most captivating film, but its less exciting plot points ultimately feed into its poignant conclusion. Gloria, for instance, starts a mid-film, casual relationship with a character who is too devoid of personality on his own to bring much to the story. At the end of the film, however, it becomes clear that Gloria’s interest in this character is a statement of her refusal to participate in/be subject to the “good-man-bad-man” dichotomy that exists between two of the film’s other central characters. Watch Colossal if you are interested in seeing a convention-defying work which reaches its resolution in memorable fashion.